Solangelo Oneshots and AU's

Blind Dates Part 2 (S)

AN:
What dignity?

"You know, if I knew you were fucking gay then I would've not had to held myself back every time I saw your hot ass."

Will gulped. Twice.

The crackle of electricity held a challenge in the air.

If he could just lean in—

"Hi! Welcome to Yeti's, here are your menus, just give me a shout when you're ready to order!"

As the waitress made her presence known, Will didn't think he'd ever jerked so blatantly in his life. And as she practically skips away, Nico already leaning back against his own booth, grinning with success. Winking from behind his menu.

And though it seemed like Nico drew the last straw, Will refused to let the Italian win this little, unnamable game.

"And who told you to hold back?" Will asked, mustering up as much courage as he could get. His eyes stayed glued on his own menu, but they just craved to scan his date's face (that he could just feel burning a gaze into his head) just to check for that blush to longed to seek.

Instead, what he got was a nudge against his ankle, catching him off guard enough that he almost dropped his cool. The tip of the Italian's combat boot traced sultrily against his calf, erupting a trail of fire underneath.

"I don't know," Nico responded, casual and seemingly calm; the under table ministrations displaying no avail. "But trust me when I say that I say no intention to any longer."

Will's self control was plummeting several hundreds of miles per hour, and couldn't help but give into the flicker of eyes to meet the alluringly intent gaze staring back at him. Nico's expression overflowed with mirth, a single eyebrow quirked in a challenge.

Will refused to let him win.

"Are you guys ready to order?" Returned that same, buoyant waitress that bounced back, with simply too much enthusiasm laced in her voice that it could be considered annoying. Especially in the thrilled charge of the moment.

"Sorry," Will began, speaking before thinking. Standing up from his side of the booth, grabbing Nico's unsuspecting wrist, "We were just leaving."

He was glad when the Italian didn't resist at all.

~*~

Nico's lips were still hot on Will's even as they burst through the door.

And one would think, coming from two people who have barely even spoken a couple of sentences to each other prior to that day, that their movements would be shy, tedious and guarded.

Yet each collision of lips, each firm glide of hands, was made with an unspoken, mutual assurance of no boundaries.

Will, in some irrelevant corner buried in the back of his brain, somewhat realised that kisses weren't supposed to be searing. That kisses didn't usually come paired with the sensation of a sizzling firework on the verge of detonating.

But with the way Nico's lips eagerly locked against his own in a perfectly messy eagerness, Will very quickly realised that this accompanied scorch was something he's been missing out on for his whole life.

Will fisted the leather of Nico's jacket, caught just above his lean waist, in an attempt to bring the two impossibly closer. However the Italian just whined in protest against his mouth, instead pushing the blond away for a brief moment, Will looking on under hooded lids and blown pupils as Nico swiftly shrugged off the suddenly heavy and offending article of clothing.

It was Nico that drew them back together, outstretching fully exposed, pale arms and looping them around the blond's neck. Long fingers lingered pleasurably enough to have a trail of goosebumps follow their winding path until they firmly knitted themselves into golden locks. Will hummed appreciatively at the sensation, a subtle tug of Nico's bottom lip to signify his gratitude.